


Sign Language

by sdwolfpup



Category: due South
Genre: Case Fic, First Time, M/M, woke up naked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-30
Updated: 2006-10-30
Packaged: 2018-11-07 00:37:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11047659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdwolfpup/pseuds/sdwolfpup
Summary: Ray pulled out his badge and held it out in front of him.  “Look lady, I’m a cop, he’s a Mountie, we’re after fruit.”When good stakeouts go bad.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to pipsqueaky for beta'ing for me! Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Fraser woke first. He kept still for a moment and took stock of the situation. He was on a cool cement floor, lying on his right side, with his right arm pinned beneath him and his left arm thrown loosely over his head. There was the gentle hum of air ventilation from somewhere above, and in his line of sight was a blank, gray wall. He was soaking wet, and water dripped from his hair down his neck, making him itch. His body ached all over, the gentle throb of fresh bruising. He was hungry. And - ah yes - he was naked.

The circulating air rose goosebumps over his entire body as it passed over him, but he was otherwise still warm, which meant the room was being heated. Fraser rolled himself gently onto his back, right onto someone's foot. It poked ferociously into his kidney.

"Ow," Fraser allowed himself, twisting his arm under him to pull the foot out of the way.

"Unnnh." Fraser tilted his head up to see that Ray was waking up, too. Fraser’s eyes flicked over his partner to assess damage. Ray was also wet, also goosepimpled, and also naked.

Oh dear.

**********

**Several Hours Earlier**

It was quiet in the Riviera, dark and still outside, when Fraser felt his eyelids drooping and his body releasing into relaxation. They’d been watching this same warehouse every night for a week, sitting for hours in the gloom and hoping for proof of the criminal deeds Fraser was certain were occurring inside. But with his job at the consulate during the day, even he was having trouble staying awake this evening. Slowly, his limbs went loose and heavy, sliding a bit from the rigid position he was trying to maintain. His left knee bumped gently to a stop against Ray’s.

“Fraser?” Ray’s voice floated out of the darkness of near-sleep.

Fraser roused himself and lifted his head, blinking hard. “Yes, Ray, I’m awake.”

“Yeah, you are now.”

“Sorry. It’s been a particularly busy week at the consulate. With the Japanese dignitary visiting-“

“And the Dragon Lady making you play party coordinator again, you’re swamped. I know.” Ray rubbed his hands over his face, his watch band glinting dimly in the low light from the streetlamp a distance away. He looked at his watch and sighed. “It’s two in the morning, Benny. I don’t think Girl Scouts stay awake this late.”

“They’re not Girl Scouts, Ray, they’re using the Girl Scouts as a front.”

Ray just nodded in response, so they fell into silent surveillance once again. Fraser’s knee was warm where it pressed up against Ray’s. In the backseat, Diefenbaker was snoring, interspersed with soft woofs.

“You think wolves dream?”

“I would imagine so. Diefenbaker is very far from the wilderness, I’m sure he misses it.”

“I wonder if he dreams of girl wolves.”

Fraser smiled in the darkness, his eyes tracing a too familiar route over the outside of the warehouse: start at the top left, track across the roof, down the right wall, and then back to the bottom left. No sign in any of the windows, no lights, no movement around the edges; there was nothing at all. But this had to be the spot. All of the tracking and interviews they’d done last week had led them here. Surely both he and Ray couldn’t be wrong. Relaxing again, Fraser let his leg settle a little more against Ray’s.

“I bet he dreams about donuts.”

“Knowing Diefenbaker, that is entirely possible. I’m sure pizza also figures heavily in his favorite dreams.”

Ray laughed softly, and Fraser felt it vibrate through the connection of their legs. “I gotta tell you Benny, we’ve been on this stakeout too long if we’re talking about Dief’s dreams.” He shifted, and dropped his hands from the steering wheel onto his thighs. His fingers were long and pale against the dark fabric of his slacks. “It’s still better than being home tonight. Ma was supposed to have her yearly phone call with Aunt Gisella, and she always has to spend the rest of the night recovering by yelling at us like we were ten years old again.”

“Has your mother considered not making the phone call?”

Ray looked at him. “Are you kidding? Who else is she going to brag about the grandkids to that hasn’t already heard it a million times? It’s like fresh meat.”

In the backseat, Diefenbaker woofed a little louder, and Fraser and Ray both twisted to look at him. Dief’s eyes were closed, his ears and paws twitching a little with whatever dream gripped him. Fraser considered waking him up, but he woofed once more and then stilled. They faced forward again, the rustle of their coats the only sound in the car. Fraser rested his hands on his legs, his little finger brushing Ray’s. They both stared out at the warehouse.

“The problem with car stakeouts is there’s no place to play cards,” Ray opined after several more silent minutes. Fraser opened his eyes, having almost fallen asleep again. His right shoulder was slouched against the door, his left leg pressed more firmly against Ray’s.

“I’m sure we could make room on the dashboard.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same.” Ray shifted, and the side of his hand pressed flush against Fraser’s. “’Course it wouldn’t be the same without Gardino, either.”

Fraser nodded. “Louis was a fine addition to the group.”

“And he stunk at poker.”

He thought about chiding Ray for speaking unfavorably of the dead, but decided he was too warm and relaxed to get into an argument that had no purpose. He knew Ray still blamed himself for Louis’ death. Making a joke was likely a sign of healing.

Fraser’s stomach rumbled low, but it was loud in the quiet of the car. Ray nodded his head towards the glove compartment, where Fraser found a chocolate bar inside. He stared at it for a second and then put it back, deciding to wait until dawn and a filling, fresh-cooked breakfast.

Besides, Ray was curling his pinky finger around Fraser’s, a gentle, halting movement, as though he expected Fraser to pull away at any second. Fraser kept his hand still and stared out the windshield; in his peripheral vision, he saw Ray doing the same. It was even quieter now that Diefenbaker had stopped snoring, and Ray’s quick breathing was harsh and loud. Fraser’s eyes made the track of the warehouse in time with the touch of Ray’s fingers over his hand. Top left, gentle brush over the tops of Fraser’s fingers; across the roof towards the right, firmer now, but still soft as they caressed Fraser’s knuckles; down the right to the ground, Ray’s palm pressing against the back of Fraser’s hand; back to the left, and Ray’s hand covered Fraser’s entirely, the fingers curled around his, his palm warm and a little sweaty on Fraser’s hand.

It was quiet for a long time while they sat like that, and Fraser counted Ray’s fast heartbeats through his hand. Unless those were his own, pounding strong and quick.

Ray took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, his leg pressing firmly against Fraser’s. “Car stakeouts ain’t all bad though, right?” he asked, his voice going a little too high at the end.

Fraser turned his head to look at Ray, but Ray kept staring with wide eyes out the windshield. There were little beads of sweat on his forehead, even though it was cold enough outside that they both were wearing coats. Fraser saw him swallow hard, his eyes dart quickly towards Fraser and then away again. Diefenbaker started snoring.

Turning his hand over, Fraser gripped Ray’s fingers with his own. They were as strong and slender as he recalled. “They do seem to have their advantages.” Ray did finally turn to look at him then, while Fraser wondered what to do next. He’d made as many subtle advances as he could and then waited for Ray to move first. Fraser had been certain that his friend never would, even while Fraser wanted him to every day. Feeling Ray’s touch now, immersing himself in the possibility of it, was sharp and bracing like jumping into an iced-over stream; and he was having as much trouble catching his breath. He didn’t know what to do, or say; he could only stare at his friend and marvel.

Ray swallowed again. “Is this…ok?”

Fraser couldn’t help watching Ray’s mouth, the way his teeth flashed in the faint light. He couldn’t resist the instinct to lean across the brief distance between them and press his lips against Ray’s, finding them warm and soft and surprised. And he couldn’t help jerking away when a body slammed onto the hood of the Riv.

**********

"Where the hell are my _clothes_ , Fraser?" Ray was huddled in a corner with his knees drawn up to his chest, but he still managed to work the entirety of his irritation into short, sharp gestures with his hands.

Fraser looked over from the vent he was examining. "I don't know, Ray. Presumably our captors took them prior to hosing us down. Our skin is much wetter than it would have been had we still been dressed. Perhaps they didn't want our clothes to be wet."

"Nice of them to do that before they locked us away. But why did they do the same to Dief?" Diefenbaker whined from where he was curled up in the corner, licking himself dry. Ray ran his hand over his head and looked at it. "This is water, right?"

Fraser sniffed his own hand thoughtfully, then tasted the liquid that had beaded up. "It certainly tastes like water." He took the few steps to get to Ray and grabbed his hand. Their eyes met for a moment before Ray looked away. Fraser sniffed and tasted again. A little salty, but that was likely from sweat. Cool and similar to the way his lips had tasted earlier. "Yours tastes like water as well"

Ray yanked his hand away and gripped his knees again. "Great. Now you can add me to your list of Gross Things You've Licked."

"On the contrary, Ray, you taste quite nice.” Fraser’s face suddenly felt hot. My God, was he _blushing_? He wasn’t sixteen. Fraser went to tug at his collar but remembered he had none. “Most humans have a fairly palatable natural taste."

"You've done that a lot?"

Fraser remembered the taste of fingers on his tongue, cold inside the heat of his mouth. "Just once." He shook his head and returned to his examination of the grate. "It's too small for us to get through."

"I could have told you that." Behind him, Fraser heard Ray shift, and then sigh. "So we've got no clothes, we're soaking wet, there's no door in this tiny little room as far as we can tell, and the vent is too small for anyone except very large rats."

"That would be a correct assessment of our situation, Ray."

"Well thank you, Benny. I'm glad that I appropriately understand just how screwed we are." Ray shifted again. "You think they did this?"

Fraser scanned the ceiling, certain that the entry must be there. He'd checked all the walls and the floor several times already, and the room was too small to have missed anything. "They must have.” He glanced at Ray, saw the first signs of that panicked energy making his limbs twitch. To distract him, Fraser said, “Let’s run through what we remember before waking up."

"Ok, ok. We were in the Riv, staking out that Girl Scout warehouse because you thought it was part of some illegal fruit smuggling ring. We’d pulled up at nine and had been parked there all evening, pointlessly watching this empty building like we had all week, and then we, uh.” He stammered to a halt. And then Ray had caressed his hand and Fraser had kissed him and now they were naked together. Fraser tried to tug at his non-existent collar again while Ray fidgeted, looking like a horse about to bolt.

“And someone fell on the hood of the Riviera,” Fraser finally supplied. Ray nodded, grateful, and continued from there. He was still conspicuously looking everywhere but at Fraser.

“Yeah, and it better not be dented. That guy was on the hood and we got out and looked around and realized that the warehouse we wanted was actually the one we were parked right in front of across from the one we thought was it.” Fraser re-worked that sentence in his head to make sense of it and nodded. “That was when those goombahs started shooting at us from the roof, so we ran inside and they got us and threw us in a vat of nasty fruit.”

“I believe it was some of the diseased fruit, actually. It’s a shame that they hosed us off, since that would have been evidence.”

Ray glared at him, as though it were Fraser’s fault they were stuck here. “It still doesn't make sense why they'd throw us in here. Why fire at us and then not kill us when they had the chance?"

“I should think you’d be grateful.”

“Well of course I’m grateful, Fraser, but I just want to know what other horrible torture they have in store. And if there’s any way to bribe ourselves out of this mess.”

“Ray, you know very well that we’ll have to arrest them.”

“ _Arrest_ them? In case you haven’t noticed, we don’t have any clothes. What am I gonna do, knit handcuffs out of Dief’s fur?” Diefenbaker whined unhappily at being denuded in that way.

“We’ll find a way to call for backup.”

Ray grimaced. “Yeah, because what I really want is for Huey or Shanks to come down here and see me in my birthday suit. No thanks, Fraser, that’s more humiliation than I want in one night. Let’s just get out of here and then we can come back tomorrow with more cops and guns and clothing.”

Fraser stared helplessly up at the ceiling. He knew the entrance was up there, probably by the light, hidden by the painful glare of the bare bulb. “They’ll have moved everything by then, Ray. They’re probably moving it now.” He looked down at his skin, mostly dry due to the ventilation. “In fact, we’re probably under the warehouse. They wouldn’t have had time to drag us out of the fruit vats, hose us off, and take us somewhere if they needed to clear out the entire building. They will assume we made a report of where we were staking out, and when we don’t report back in the morning, they know the police will come looking for us.”

“Yeah but we didn’t make a report with this address, just the other one.”

“Ah, but they don’t know that.”

“You’re assuming they’ll leave us alive at all.”

“There’s no reason to think otherwise. I believe their guns were firing rubber pellets. One hit the body on the hood and there was no blood or other sign a standard round would make.”

Ray shook his head. “I swear, Fraser, the day one of your cases goes without a hitch, I’m going to buy all the lottery tickets I can and then fly to Vegas and place the winnings on a single roulette spin.”

Fraser sat down in the corner opposite Ray so that between the two of them they could survey the whole room in case anything changed.

"Might I add that I'm proud of you for not overreacting to our confinement?" Fraser smiled across at Ray. "As evidenced by our experience in the vault, I would expect you to be up and shouting by now, but you've remained remarkably calm."

"Yeah, well, I guess it's the not having any clothes on that does that to me."

"Mmm, indeed. I'll have to keep that in mind." Fraser had been examining the wall again when he said that, and as the words registered, he felt his face flush with heat. "Ah, I mean," he coughed and glanced at Ray, who was grinning a little. "It's just a-a figure of speech. I-I didn't mean it like that," he finally stammered.

Ray's smile drooped, but he shrugged with a careless air. "All's fair in love and war, Fraser. So," he clapped his hands sharply, startling Fraser. Diefenbaker jerked, too, woofing low. “The lumsquat farmers.”

“Loquat.”

“They washed us off and dropped us in a pit and are cleaning up above now. They don’t want us dead – at least not yet – or they would’ve killed us already. They also don’t want to let us go or they would have done that, too. What’s gonna happen to us?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Ray.”

“Then what are we gonna do?”

Fraser looked across the gray floor at Ray, examined the long lines of his limbs as they curled around his body, was distracted by the glint of his necklace chain – the only adornment either one of them had been left with. It lay against his chest, nestled in the soft hair there. Fraser knew he was openly staring, but he didn’t want to look away. “We wait here.”

They watched each other for several minutes. Fraser wanted to ask Ray about the kiss. He wanted to follow-up on it with more kissing and a closer examination of Ray’s naked body, but this was not the right time. Instead they just stared at each other and neither moved nor spoke, until Ray sighed and leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

“I hope we get out of here,” he said softly.

“We will.”

Diefenbaker whined and laid his head on his paws, closing his eyes, too. Fraser stared up at the ceiling until his eyes watered.

**********

**That Morning**

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, Ray. It’s just on the right here; you can let me out at the curb.”

Ray smoothly pulled the Riviera to a stop in front of a tall office building with two flagpoles out in front. There was a sign over the doors, announcing the Riverside Plaza. Fraser checked the slip of paper with the address for the Girl Scout offices to confirm, and then grabbed his Stetson off the dashboard and smiled at Ray. “Thank you for the ride. Come on, Diefenbaker.” He got out and was surprised when Ray did as well. “You really don’t have to come with me, Ray. I’ll be fine.”

Ray slammed the driver side door shut and hurried around the front of the Buick. “That’ll be the day.”

Fraser blinked and settled his hat on his head. “What do you mean by that?”

“You, alone with a group of Girl Scouts?” Ray paused and gave Fraser a once-over. Fraser straightened a little under his scrutiny. At his side, Diefenbaker was sniffing the air, surely already imagining all of the cookies he’d be given. “They’ll eat you alive,” Ray finally decided, grabbing Fraser’s arm and escorting him to the door. Overhead, the flags snapped in the brisk wind.

Fraser let himself be pulled along, Ray’s grip warm and secure on his arm. Before they entered the building, he halted and pointed at Diefenbaker. “You are a wolf, a wild animal that lives on raw meat and going days without food. You are not to beg for cookies, do you understand me?” Diefenbaker woofed and tried to look innocent. Fraser “hmph”ed and followed Ray inside the building and into the elevator. They rode up to the twenty-first floor in silence.

With a gentle ding, the elevator doors slid open and they stepped onto plush carpeting the color of a robin’s egg, and saw a pair of frosted glass doors. Ray pulled open one of the doors and ushered Fraser through. They were greeted by a tidy desk with an older woman behind it on the phone. Above her head on the darkly paneled wall was the Girl Scout logo in pine green. A tune he didn’t recognize played soft over the speakers, lulling him into a soporific state while they waited for the receptionist to finish her call. He needed to get this case resolved; the lack of sleep was starting to severely affect his response times.

“How may I help you?” the woman asked after finally hanging up. She gave a look overflowing with disapproval to Diefenbaker.

Fraser removed his Stetson. “How do you do," he searched for a nameplate and couldn't find one, "ma’am. My name is Benton Fraser, I’m with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. This is Detective Raymond Vecchio.” Ray gave her a short nod. “We’re here to report a possible infraction on the Girl Scout identity.”

The woman stared silently at Fraser, so he continued. “I believe I have evidence of an illegal loquat exporting ring that is using the Chicago Girl Scouts as a cover.”

“What’s a loquat?”

“Good question,” Ray muttered.

“It’s a type of exotic fruit originally native to China and now grown in many nations of the world, including Japan, Turkey, and Brazil, as well as the state of Hawaii. They’re really quite delicious. They are similar to the apple in texture, and have a hint of –“

Ray pulled out his badge and held it out in front of him. “Look lady, I’m a cop, he’s a Mountie, we’re after fruit. I know it sounds bizarre, but really, this is one of the less crazy things we’ve done in the last two years and so far our lives haven’t been put in danger doing it so I’m still in a good mood. Help me keep my good mood and just give us the list of any foreign visitors you might have had in the last two months.”

The woman glared at Ray, smiled at Fraser, and got up, disappearing through a door on the back wall.

Fraser looked over at his partner. “Was that really necessary?”

“What? I was polite.”

“You were terse.”

“I was not _terse_. I was…succinct.”

Fraser blinked. “Succinct, Ray?”

“Yeah, It means, you know, getting to the point.”

“I know what it means. I was surprised to hear you say it.”

“I got one of those Word of the Day calendars for Christmas last year and finally opened it. I’ve made it through February so far.”

“But it’s April.”

Ray replaced his badge. “I’m taking my time.”

A chorus of sharp, loud giggles cut through Fraser’s response, and they both turned to look at the door the receptionist had disappeared behind. Standing there were a handful of teenage girls in uniforms that were, Fraser had to admit, an unpleasant shade of green. He smiled and nodded at them, and it set off a fresh round of giggling. He could feel Ray’s amusement.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself, Benny?”

Fraser glanced nervously at the girls as they hovered in the doorway, hands covering their mouths, hiding the quality of their whispers if not the quantity. Even Diefenbaker hadn’t moved forward; he was pacing nervously back and forth at Fraser’s side.

“Ah, really Ray, we can just wait for the receptionist to return.” Were there _more_ of them? He couldn’t tell, but the doorway seemed darker.

Ray rocked back and forth where he was standing, grinning openly now. It was infuriating and intoxicating. “I bet they’ve never seen a real live Mountie before.”

“I’m sure they would be welcome to visit the Consulate should they ever have any questions.”

“Ladies, please! Back to your From Stress to Success badge exercises!”

The girls gave them one last giggle, a few waves, and then disappeared from view, trailing excited chattering after them. Fraser tried not to exhale too forcefully.

The woman took her seat again and folded her hands on the desk. Fraser was certain that was a bad sign. “You’ll have to get a warrant before we surrender any documents.”

“Come on, aren’t the Girl Scouts bound by some oath to help law enforcement?”

The woman shot a withering look at Ray, who blanched a little. “We are always prepared to assist the justice system, as long as the standard rules are being followed. We do not have to willingly provide evidence that could be used to later incriminate us.”

“You really think the Chicago PD is going to incriminate the Girl Scouts? Who do you think buys most of your cookies?”

“Ma’am, while I’m certain that we can arrange to get a warrant and come back later, we truly only have the best intentions in our investigation.”

She turned that stare on Fraser, and he had a sharp, unexpected memory of his grandmother looking much the same. He willed himself not to take a step backwards. “And why is the RCMP so interested in the Girl Scouts anyway? Don’t you have Canadian problems to deal with?”

“Actually, ma’am, that’s a funny story-“

“No, it’s not. Come on, Fraser, let’s leave the Keebler Elves to their baking.” Ray headed for the door without waiting. Fraser replaced his Stetson and nodded at the woman.

“Thank you for your time.” Outside, he found Ray holding the elevator for him. Fraser hurried to get in. “I thought we were making progress.”

“That wasn’t progress, Fraser, that was stonewalling.”

“They’re just Girl Scouts, Ray. I’m sure we could have convinced her to assist us.”

He turned to Fraser. “I know you’re from Canada, so you don’t really get Girl Scouts, but listen to me on this one. They are not to be trusted.”

“We do have Girl Scouts in Canada, Ray. They’re actually part of the Guides du Canada. We had a small troop in Inuvik. Of course the weather was limiting for which badges they could go for, but in the major cities they were just as established as your Girl Scouts.”

“Fraser, I know Girl Scouts. Frannie was one for a year before she got kicked out for breaking almost every Girl Scout law. I know how they work. Once they close ranks, that green wall is unscalable. We’ll have to come back with a sledgehammer.”

“A sledgehammer?”

“The warrant.”

“Ah.” They got into the Riviera and Ray pulled out into the street with a squeal of the tires. Fraser watched Ray barely make two yellow lights before he was compelled to ask, “Francesca was a Girl Scout?”

**********

“You know, Buck Frobisher and I were stuck together in a cement room once.”

Fraser opened his eyes and winced at the stiffness in his muscles. Bob Fraser was sitting in the fourth corner of the room, also naked. He was very pale, and Fraser wondered briefly if that was natural or a result of being dead. “Is that so?”

“We were in there for eighteen hours before we managed to get ourselves out with a little bit of ingenuity.”

He didn’t offer more, so Fraser glanced at Ray to make sure he was still asleep before asking, “What did you do?”

“I stood on Buck’s shoulders to reach the ceiling and then I used my lanyard and the buckle from around my Stetson to pick the lock.”

“That’s great, Dad. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re missing a crucial portion of that ingenuity.”

“A Mountie should never be without his uniform, son.”

“I agree. Why don’t you get me one? Oh that’s right, you’re dead.”

Bob stared dolefully at him. “Don’t take your frustration out on me, Benton.”

Fraser buried his face in his hands for a moment. “I don’t have any idea of what they want, I have no plan, and I can’t protect Ray like this.”

“It’s not your job to protect him. He’s an officer of the law, he can protect himself.”

“I engaged his help on this case.”

“You didn’t force him to come with you.”

“I kissed him.”

Bob blinked slowly at that. “Well.” He looked over at Ray, who was still sleeping with his head back against the wall, drooling a little. “Well.”

“Well?”

“Does it matter if I approve or not?”

Fraser watched Ray sleep, the slow, steady up and down movement of his chest, the way his fingers twitched a little, reminding Fraser of Diefenbaker. “No, it doesn’t matter. But it would be nice.”

“If it’s what you want, then I approve. But it still doesn’t help you get out of here,” he added. “A Mountie’s not the only one who wears a uniform.”

“What?” Fraser looked over but Bob had disappeared. Ray snorted and choked out a cough and woke up.

“Are they here? Are we dead?”

“No and not as far as I’m aware. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“Nah.” Ray rubbed the back of his neck and groaned. “It’s a good thing or else my neck might have permanently stuck that way. Damn.”

“I could massage your neck for you, if you’d like?”

Ray stilled, his hand clenching the back of his neck. “Ah, no, that’s ok.”

Fraser, disappointed, could only nod. Ray went back to the ministrations on himself while Fraser watched, noting the pull and flex of the muscles of Ray’s arm and along the long, clean line of his chest. Ray’s legs slipped a little and Fraser saw the soft, dark hair that trailed down his stomach.

Fraser looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “We should talk.” There was silence, so he glanced at Ray, who was staring at his own feet. “Ray?”

His head bobbed up. “Yeah?”

“Did you hear me?”

“I thought you were talking to God.”

Fraser chuckled. “No, Ray, I was talking to you.”

“Oh. What about?”

Fraser lifted his eyebrows in what he hoped was a meaningful manner. By the blush that spread down Ray’s neck, he guessed he’d succeeded.

“No way, Fraser. This is not the time or the place or the clothing situation to be talking about that.”

“It certainly is not the right situation, but I think the time is exactly right. Especially since we may not have time later.”

“Oh my God,” Ray dropped his head onto his knees. “I don’t want a deathbed confession.”

“It may not be,” Fraser supplied, trying to be helpful. For a man so open with his emotions, Ray could be such a mystery sometimes.

“Fraser,” Ray rubbed a hand over the top of his head, and finally met Fraser’s gaze. “Benny.” Ray’s voice was low and warm, and it made Fraser’s stomach clench. “I liked the kiss, ok? But I don’t know what the hell to do about it.”

“Do about it?”

“Yeah, I just,” he gestured broadly. “Look I didn’t really plan anything beyond the hand thing.”

“I see.”

Ray was staring at him, now, frowning. “Don’t do that. See, this is why I did not want to discuss this here.”

“It’s all right, Ray, I understand.” But Fraser had no idea what his friend was saying, what he wanted, what the caress of his hand had meant.

“No, Fraser, you don’t. That’s the problem.” Ray leaned his head back again and stared at the ceiling. “God, you are so Canadian sometimes.”

Fraser knew it wasn’t bad to be annoyed at the person he was attracted to, but he suspected it wasn’t healthy to be _this_ annoyed. “I don’t think ethnic slurs are necessary, Ray.”

Ray stared at him with eyes like a startled owl. “I wasn’t-“ he shook his head sharply. “Forget it. We can talk about it later.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

To cover up his distress, Fraser started to whistle an old Canadian folk song. It at least gave him something to do with his lips besides kissing or arguing. He could feel Ray glaring at him, but he resolutely kept up the whistling, staring everywhere but at his partner.

“Fraser.”

Fraser glanced over and the whistle died on his lips. Ray looked furious, but there was something else in his eyes, which were focused intensely on Fraser’s mouth. “Yes, Ray?”

“Stop. Whistling."

It was silent after that. He and Ray stayed curled in their respective corners; Diefenbaker had stretched out into the middle of the room and was eying them both warily. Left with nothing to do but focus on Ray and his nakedness – and all of the inappropriate for confinement thoughts that that engendered – Fraser forced himself to replay the events since the body had landed on the car, hoping for some clue he’d missed before. In his thoughts, he and Ray had just gone into the vat of fruit when Diefenbaker leapt to his feet and barked once, breaking Fraser’s concentration. Diefenbaker lifted his nose to the ceiling, nose twitching furiously, as it always did when he’d caught the scent of some prey, whether it was rabbit or hamburger.

Fraser tilted his head to see if he could hear what had alerted Diefenbaker’s nose. There was a sound that might be footsteps, although they were very faint and kept drifting in and out of his range.

“What is it?” Ray asked, his voice shockingly loud.

“I’m not sure,” Fraser whispered. “I think I hear footsteps.”

“Really?” Ray tilted his head, too, mirroring Fraser. “I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s because they’ve disappeared.” He looked at Dief, who seemed to nod his assent. “They must be doing a rotational watch of the area. They’re likely too busy packing to spare a stationary guard.”

“And that’s good?”

“Possibly.” Fraser stood and stared up at the ceiling again. The talk of guards reminded him of the conversation with his father. _Uniforms._ “I have an idea. But I’ll need your necklace.”

Ray’s hand closed protectively over the cross hanging from his chain. “What are you going to do to Jesus?’

“Nothing he won’t forgive us for later, I promise.”

It only took a little cajoling for Ray to hand over the necklace. Once Fraser had it in hand, he examined it, and nodded to himself. The gold was a little tarnished, but the figure itself was solid. “This should do. Now I, ah, I need you to put me on your shoulders.”

“What?”

“It’s the only way we’ll be tall enough to reach the ceiling.”

“But you’re….I mean we….” he gestured at them both, looking a little frantic. Fraser kept his features open, and as innocent as he could manage. He really did need Ray’s help on this. Even if the thought of Ray’s head being so near his groin was startlingly erotic. Fraser tried even harder to not imagine that picture, instead focusing on the cross still cupped in his hand. After a moment, Ray sighed like Fraser had asked him to give over all his worldly goods, including the Riviera, and he stood up. That was when Fraser saw what Ray had been successfully hiding.

“Just don’t say anything,” Ray said, spitting the words out.

“Ray, I’m not-“

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

At least they had something to talk about. Fraser tabled it for later and nodded. “Understood.” They both awkwardly avoided looking at each other. “You should probably turn around.”

“Yeah.” Ray turned and then crouched down, his back to Fraser. The light seemed to be bouncing off of the expanse of Ray’s back as Fraser stared at it, studying where it curved down into his hips and became his buttocks. “Just get on already, will you?”

Fraser rubbed his forehead and willed himself to focus on the cross now clenched tightly in his fist, the edges pricking his skin. “Yes, of course. I was just,” Fraser paused. _Just what?_ he thought. _Just thinking of what it would be like to touch you, taste you?_ “Never mind.”

The act of actually climbing onto Ray’s shoulders was awkward and Fraser was sufficiently distracted by the time Ray staggered to his feet. Fraser windmilled his arms a bit to try to give them both balance, but they still staggered around the room. Ray’s arms were like iron around Fraser’s legs; Fraser flexed his feet a little to keep the circulation going. Finally, after a few more stumbled steps and a little more windmilling, they were standing still, the light bulb just at Fraser’s eye level, nearly blinding him.

Steadying himself with one arm on Ray’s head, Fraser lifted his other up to brush his fingers along the ceiling. “Shift a little to the left.” They jolted to the left and Fraser felt the ceiling change as his hand swept over the opening. “There!” Ray jerked to a stop and Fraser grabbed onto Ray’s head with both hands. Diefenbaker watched them, tongue lolling, eyes glinting with mirth. Fraser ignored him.

“I found the entrance.”

“Yeah I figured. Could you let go of my head?”

“Sorry.” Fraser shifted his grip towards Ray’s shoulder, and found the opening again. As he’d expected, it was a wooden hatch, three feet by three feet, and the hinges suggested it opened upward. Fraser pushed on it, but it appeared to be locked. Directing Ray, they moved around until the cool kiss of metal greeted Fraser’s fingertips. The lock.

“Excellent. Stop here.” Ray was panting a little, and Fraser’s thighs were sweaty against Ray’s skin. With deft movements, Fraser shifted the cross to his right hand and started to work it into the lock.

“Do you even know how to pick a lock?”

Fraser squinted, trying to keep out the glare of the bulb. He brought his other hand up to steady himself on the ceiling. “As a matter of fact, I read about it recently. The Chicago public library has quite an extensive collection on the subject.”

“Great.”

He was focused on the lock when Ray turned his head between Fraser’s thighs and rubbed his nose against Fraser’s leg. The bristles of Ray’s hair tickled the skin of his inner thigh, and Ray was blowing warm air against his other thigh. Fraser nearly dropped the cross.

“Sorry,” Ray said, turning his head back quickly. “My nose itched.”

Swallowing hard, Fraser focused on the cross once more. He swallowed again. “That’s quite all right.” After another half minute, the click of the lock was loud in his ears. “There.”

They stood for a moment longer. “Are you going to pull yourself out or what?”

“No, Ray. Diefenbaker first. We’ll let him scout the area and get our clothing and your gun back to us.”

“Why don’t all three of us look for our clothes instead?”

“It’s too risky. We don’t know how many people are out there, or even where we are. Now, crouch down so he can jump into my arms.”

Ray groaned. “Remind me to hit the gym before our next case,” he said as he crouched down. Fraser swayed on his shoulders and waited until they both were steady before holding his arms out to Diefenbaker. “Diefenbaker, jump!”

Dief stared at him.

“This is no time to let your fear of heights get the best of you.”

Dief whined.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, I will _not_ drop you. Now come on. Jump into my arms.”

More silent refusal greeted this command. Underneath Fraser, Ray shifted his shoulders, re-settling Fraser’s body. “Come on, Dief. Benny’s heavy and I’m tired. We both know you’re going to do it, so just do it already or _I’ll_ drop you.”

With another whine, Diefenbaker sprang into Fraser’s arms and the trio tumbled to the floor in a sprawl of legs and fur. It took two more tries, Fraser explaining that he couldn’t very well climb back onto Ray with Diefenbaker already in his arms, and promises of whatever food he wanted, to get Dief to jump a third and final time. Fraser gripped the wolf tightly to his body while Ray grunted and heaved himself to his feet. “Lift with your legs, Ray,” Fraser reminded him. Ray grunted something that sounded like “shut up” and then Fraser was six feet higher.

They stopped for a moment, all three breathing heavily. Whatever sexual interest Fraser had had when they started was completely wiped out by now. His arms were aching, his legs were slick with sweat, and Diefenbaker still smelled faintly of wet dog. Straining to hear over the harsh breathing, Fraser couldn’t make out any footsteps. He blew on Dief’s ear to get the wolf to turn his way.

“Scout the area and report back. Three scratches on the door means that it’s safe. One means it’s not. Ready?” Dief yipped and Fraser nodded. “Go!” On the word, Fraser lifted Diefenbaker up and through the hatch with the last of his energy. He saw Diefenbaker’s back feet launch themselves off of Ray’s head just before Ray yelped and they fell to the ground. Fraser tumbled off of Ray’s shoulders and rolled into the wall.

Fraser stared up at the ceiling, but Dief didn’t fall back into the room. His shoulder ached where it had slammed into the wall. “Ray, are you all right?”

There was a soft groan and then an even softer, “Yeah.”

Turning his head to stare across the room, he saw Ray lying on his back, also staring up at the ceiling. He had both hands pressed to his head. “Are you sure?” Fraser asked.

“My head is bleeding.”

“I’m sorry about that. He was panicking.”

“Yeah well, at least he made it out.” Ray dropped his hands to his side and turned his head to look at Fraser. “Now what?”

“We wait.”

“Great,” Ray sighed. "It’s a good thing we took one for the loquat farmers."

"Took one what?"

Ray stared at him blandly and then said, "Never mind.”

“Ray-“

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just let me lie here and bleed, ok?”

Fraser sighed. “As you wish, Ray.” Ray looked back up at the ceiling. Fraser just kept watching him.

**********

**Four Days Ago**

Fraser stared out at the warehouse, planning the best way to watch it. A set pattern would be most efficient, that way he wouldn’t miss any shadowy areas in a haphazard search. He took a sip of the coffee Ray had brought for him and then blinked in surprise. “Is this vanilla flavored?”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like it.” Ray glanced over at him through the steam rising from his open thermos. “You like it, right?”

“Yes, I just wasn’t expecting it. Thank you, Ray. That was very thoughtful of you.”

Ray shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “It’s nothing.” He closed the thermos and set it on the seat between them. “You know, I asked about locots or lakwats or whatever those are at the grocery store, and the fruit guy didn't know nothing about them, so I still don't understand why it matters if people have them illegally or not."

"It isn't a smuggling ring; it’s an illegal exporting ring. They're sending fruit fly infested loquats to Hawaii in Girl Scout cookie boxes, which will severely damage the crop there. The loquat farmers of Hawaii will be ruined."

“’Ruined’ seems kind of excessive, Fraser.”

“It’s their only means of supporting themselves and their families, Ray. They bring in a considerable sum to the Hawaiian economy. Yes, even though you’ve never heard of them.”

Ray shut his mouth, shrugged, and stared out the window. Fraser waited for something else, some remark about loquats and how Ray had never used them to cook a decent Italian meal, or perhaps a snide comment about the criminals using the Girl Scouts, but Ray wasn’t talking, he just looked forward and idly tapped out an uneven beat on the steering wheel. The quiet from Ray was unusual; his penchant for keeping up a stream of conversation was something of which Fraser had grown unexpectedly fond. Fraser had had a lifetime’s experience with silence. He looked forward to the timbre of Ray’s voice, the animation of his smiles.

“Did you have any interesting cases today, Ray?” Fraser finally asked.

“Nah, it was pretty quiet. You didn’t miss much.” He shifted in his seat and Fraser caught the faint scent of Ray’s cologne and the macaroni and cheese he must have had for dinner before picking Fraser up for the night. Fraser remembered Ray telling him that Mrs. Vecchio had recently started attending bingo games (“at the old ladies’ center” Ray had said; “senior center,” Fraser had responded; Ray had just smiled with a touch of wickedness, and Fraser had had to excuse himself before he did something inappropriate), and guessed that Francesca had cooked that evening.

The warehouse remained still and dark. In the distance, Fraser heard a police siren wailing down the highway. “Inspector Thatcher had her first meeting with the Japanese Ambassador today,” he offered.

Ray grinned a bit at that. “Did he make it out alive?”

“Ray.” But it was a reflex; Fraser felt no real annoyance, just warm pleasure. “I wasn’t in the room, of course, and in fact only had a chance to briefly see the Ambassador myself, but the Inspector seemed satisfied with the outcome. And the Ambassador remained burn-free, from what I saw.” Ray’s bark of laughter delighted him.

“What I don’t get, Benny, is how you even found out about this. Loquats and Girl Scouts? That’s weird even for you.”

“You know, Ray, that’s a funny story. Some months ago, I had assisted Mrs. Devonshire, she’s the widow on the second floor, you recall? We helped her neighbor, Mr. Johnson, nearly six months ago, with finding his missing chinchilla. That was the one we found when he ate your tie.” He glanced at Ray and hurried on. “Regardless, I helped Mrs. Devonshire find _her_ chinchilla. Did you know they have a breeding pair? It’s not really my place, but I suspect that Mrs. Devonshire and Mr. Johnson might also be dallying. I had been wondering if I shouldn’t find out for sure, which you know I would normally never do, except Mr. Johnson is very much not widowed-“

“Benny.”

“Right. My apologies, Ray, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Mrs. Devonshire’s granddaughter-“

“Is in the Girl Scouts and gave you a box that was filled with lakwats.”

“Loquats. And no, Ray. Mrs. Devonshire’s granddaughter heard about how I had assisted her with the chinchilla, and she asked that I help her get a pony. Well I naturally assumed that she had had a pony previously, or else why would she ask me to get her one?”

“The red suit made her think you were Santa Claus?” Ray asked, smirking.

Fraser shot him an annoyed look. “Actually, yes. When I realized that the pony we were going after was not, in fact, hers, I put a stop to it, but she got very upset.”

“So you bought her Girl Scout cookies and found the lumsquats in them.”

“Loquats. And no, I bought her ice cream, which she dripped all over her dress. Her mother insisted that I pay for it to be dry-cleaned, which I suppose is fair, although I have reason to believe that Mrs. Devonshire’s granddaughter did it on purpose, as she had been successfully eating the ice cream up until the moment her mother came home and heard the pony story.”

“Is there an end to this tale at some point? We only have six more hours out here.”

“Eventually, Ray, yes. On my way to the drycleaners I ran into a purse-snatcher, well, what I thought was a purse-snatcher. I had somehow stumbled onto a movie set and apparently completely ruined the shot. I apologized, but I think I would have been fined if the director hadn’t realized I was a member of the RCMP. She has a sister, you see, who recently left Canada after time there with Habitat For Humanity.” Ray gave him a surprised look. “Canada has its own problems, Ray, including poverty and housing issues. We are just as culpable for our poor as any third world country. The United States also has Habitat for Humanity groups. They do a lot of good work.” Fraser saw Ray’s telltale signs of impatience - the squint of his eyes, the thinning of his lips - and decided to move on. “The sister had just returned to her home in Arkansas and hadn’t remembered to take any authentic Canadian mementos with her. In recompense for ruining the shot, I offered to provide her with something from the Consulate, which she could then send to her sister. And it was on my way to the Consulate to retrieve a small Canadian flag that I came across a Girl Scout arguing with a man who had just purchased a box of cookies and had instead found diseased loquats inside.”

“You couldn’t have just said that? You couldn’t just say, ‘I ran into a guy who’d bought a box of diseased fruit instead of cookies’? You had to go through the entire last six months of history with your neighbors? You just keep talking and talking and being more of a Boy Scout than ever?” Ray threw his hands up in the air, hitting them on the roof of the Riviera. “I just don’t get you sometimes, Fraser.”

Fraser blinked. “I was just trying to pass the time, Ray.”

“Yeah, well, don’t.” He crossed his arms firmly across his chest. “And it wasn’t.”

Still shocked at the vehemence of his friend’s reaction, Fraser was utterly nonplussed. “What wasn’t what?”

“Funny. Your story.”

“Oh.”

Ray sighed heavily. “Just drink your coffee, Benny.”

Fraser took another sip as directed. “It really is quite good,” he offered. Ray grunted, and they remained quiet for the rest of the night.

**********


	2. Chapter 2

"Fraser, I have to go to the bathroom."

"Can't it wait, Ray? We're a bit trapped at the moment."

“It’s been waiting for awhile now.”

Fraser pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side, trying to decipher the faint sounds he was hearing, wondering which of them would be Diefenbaker. Had the wolf been recaptured? Was he injured? 

“Fraser-“

“Ray, please, I’m trying to listen.”

“Geeze, sorry.” 

There was nothing beyond their own breaths rebounding around the small room, colliding with each other in the small space. Ray sighed with unnecessary weariness, and it was so loud and filled the room so full, Fraser suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. He straightened and folded his arms over his chest. “We need to talk.”

Ray looked up at him from where he was curled on the floor. With his arms around his knees and the wary look in his eye, he reminded Fraser more than ever of a cornered animal. _And those are always the most dangerous,_ Fraser reminded himself, sitting down in front of Ray. 

“I thought we were gonna wait and talk about it later?”

“We were. But clearly this issue is on both of our minds, and it’s interfering with my ability, at least, to come up with an escape plan.”

“The kiss was that good, huh?”

“Ray.” 

Ray had the grace to look guilty. “All right, all right. What do you want to talk about?”

 _Where to start?_ Fraser came around it from the side. “I don’t believe that all you had planned was touching my hand.”

“You better believe it, because it’s true.”

“What if I had responded badly?”

“Ok, I had a plan for that: I would have died of embarrassment.”

“Then I’m sure we’re both glad it didn’t turn out that way.” Fraser smiled, and was relieved when Ray smiled back. It meant he was still with Fraser, willing to follow his lead. It was time to give him a clearer trail. “I have been wondering for a long time whether I was being too subtle with my signals. I know you’re a believer in signs, Ray.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t know if a guy’s signs would be different, you know?”

“I do. If you don’t mind me asking, what was it?”

The wariness was back in Ray’s gaze, accompanied by fear. Fraser wanted to reach out and touch him, give him warmth and something to believe in, but he needed Ray to find it on his own. 

“Do we really have to talk about this now? Those guys could be coming. And what about Dief?”

“Diefenbaker knows the signal to alert us. And I’m sure we’ll hear our captors coming with plenty of time.” He kept watching Ray while Ray focused on everything but Fraser in the increasingly cramped room. It didn’t take long for him to run out of options and meet Fraser’s eyes.

“This isn’t-“

“There is no better time, Ray,” Fraser snapped. “Just talk to me. That’s all I want.”

“I don’t know how to do this, ok?”

“Have you been attracted to men before?” 

Ray flushed. “Yeah. A few. But I never did anything with them.”

“Then why now?”

Somehow his skin got even darker. “Come on, Benny. Can’t we talk about something else?”

“No. No matter what we do before Diefenbaker or our captors return, this will be on our minds. We appear to have nothing but time.” It was Fraser’s turn to look away. “And I just need to know.”

“It was your dad.”

Fraser jerked in surprise. Had his father been talking to Ray, too? “How do you mean?”

“You remember last Christmas when you said your dad was in the car with us? Well I’m not saying he’s actually there or anything, but sometimes I feel like I can hear my dad talking to me, too. And I thought it was weird that you’d be the same way, you know? It was a sign. But then there was Victoria and I thought I’d read that sign pretty wrong.”

“Ray, Victoria was-“

“I won’t talk about her now, too, Benny.” 

Fraser gauged the warning in his voice and nodded. That was fair. “What made you change your mind then?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Irene’s death, I guess. I couldn’t stand being around you all the time anymore and not even trying. I sort of made a deal with myself that this stakeout was it. Put up or shut up, you know?”

“Not entirely, no.”

“Either I made my move or I dropped it entirely. You wouldn’t believe how many different ways I imagined bringing it up. The hand thing seemed the safest to come back from.” Ray rubbed his hands over his face. “So what about you? Why didn’t you do anything, if you were supposedly so interested.” There was more than curiosity in Ray’s tone, and Fraser felt unexpectedly guilty. But Ray had given him open truth, so he responded in kind.

“I didn’t know how you would react. You go out on dates with women and never men, that I’ve seen. I value your friendship enough that I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“So you thought I was a homophobe?”

“Well I never said that, precisely.”

“No, not precisely, but you were thinking it.”

Fraser swallowed hard. “Ray, I think you misunderstand my point here-“

“You said you didn’t want to ruin our friendship by telling me you wanted me. Ergo, you thought that I would be freaked out by you wanting me. Ergo, you think I’m afraid of gay guys.” 

When had they diverged down this path? “Ray, that’s really not the point of the conversation.”

“I think it’s a pretty fair point. That’s pretty close-minded for a Canadian.” It was then that Fraser heard more clearly the gentle teasing that he’d mistook for banked anger. 

“Ah. You’re joking.”

“Mostly.” Ray grinned at him, and the feelings that Fraser had been so tightly controlling started slipping free. 

“I’m glad you initiated your move, Ray. And now I think it’s my turn.” Fraser rose up onto his knees, and the room seemed to constrict even more around them, pulling them close. He saw all of Ray’s muscles tense, like he was readying for a hit. “Don’t worry, Ray,” Fraser murmured, balancing himself against the wall with both hands while he leaned forward. “I think this will make my feelings clear.”

The ceiling door opened with a startlingly loud creak, making them both jump. Fraser pushed himself off of the wall, and rolled to a different corner, away from any easy shooting access. He crouched there and listened to the angry conversation in Japanese above. And that’s when he finally remembered who the body on the car had been. 

“Ray!” he hissed, gesturing for Ray to join him. Before Ray could make it even that short distance, their clothes fell into the room, landing with a clink of belts and buckles. They both stared at the clothes, and Fraser felt more warmly towards his uniform than he ever had in his life. 

“Put on!”

Fraser peered up at the ceiling, but he couldn’t make out any details. “Excuse me?”

“Put clothes on! Back soon.” And the door slammed shut again. 

“Oh thank God,” Ray said, darting forward. He had his underwear and pants pulled on before Fraser could get the last piece of the puzzle to fall into place. 

“Ray. Stop. Don’t put them on.”

He froze, panicked. “Are the clothes poisoned? Is there a bomb? Am I gonna die a horrible death?”

Fraser was baffled by that train of thought. “No, Ray. I just want to finish thinking this through. It’s all related to the body that landed on your car. That was the Japanese ambassador.”

“What?”

“The ambassador who’s been visiting the Consulate. I really didn’t get a good look at him earlier, but our captors were speaking Japanese, and I got enough of a look that I can make the identification. He must have heard about what was going on, came to stop them, and was killed.”

“Or maybe he was running it and they killed him to get his share of the money.”

“If you want the more cynical view, yes.”

“Cynical?” Ray laughed a little. “You are such a Boy Scout. But either way, why keep us here? And then why give us our clothes back?”

Fraser was trying to keep ahead of Ray’s questions; trying to turn the puzzle around in his head to look at it the right direction. He focused on the Ambassador, and the realization of their plan hit him. He saw the ripples radiating out from the dead body, becoming waves that were going to drag he and Ray down. “Oh dear.”

“Oh dear? What ‘oh dear’?” 

“I believe they intend to frame us for his death.”

“That’s a stupid plan, we’ll never agree to that.”

“Not unless we’re unable to defend ourselves.”

“Unable to-“ Fraser saw the proverbial light go on above Ray’s head. “Oh dear.”

“Now we at least know what’s going on. Remove your pants, I have a plan.”

“And this plan involves us being naked still?”

“No, Ray. But we’ll have to wear each other’s clothes.”

Ray straightened, holding his trousers close to his chest. “This better be good. I’ve worn your uniform, it’s not that comfortable.”

“They didn’t throw down your weapon, obviously,” Fraser said, while he started trying to fit into Ray’s clothes. Though they were roughly the same height, he was bulkier than Ray, and the pants were uncomfortably tight. “And we cannot be sure where Diefenbaker has gotten off to, or when he’ll return. So surprise is our only ally.” He pulled Ray’s silk shirt on and felt the seams give a little at his shoulders. The clothes smelled of cheap detergent – Fraser was certain that Ray would be angry about the mistreatment of his fine suit with sub par cleaning agents – and underneath it all, the faintest hint of Ray. Not enough, fortunately, to be distracting. 

Fraser shot a quick look over at Ray, but he was occupied trying to figure out Fraser’s uniform. “Here, let me help you.” Fraser started the process with sure hands, trying to ignore Ray’s warm breath on his cheek. The cold metal of the buttons chilled his fingers as he slipped them into place, one by one. Ray’s breathing hitched when the back of Fraser’s hand slid across Ray’s neck as he attached the collar. He and Ray were inches from each other. “The plan,” Fraser said, his voice low, “is to send you up first. They hopefully will not be paying much attention, and will just see the red of the uniform and the Stetson and assume that it’s me.” He slid the long, supple leather of the Sam Browne into place.

“But what if they want me to come up first? I mean you. As me.” Ray asked. His voice was as low and breathy as Fraser’s own, his body radiating heat. Fraser felt his own body responding, eager. His fingers fumbled with the lanyard. 

“Uniforms create expectation. They will want to be sure of me first. When it’s you that they see, they’ll be startled, and you will have to make your move.” Fraser smoothed out the serge, felt Ray tense.

“That’s your plan?”

“For the moment, yes.”

“Benny, even for you that’s a stupid plan.”

“It’s also our only plan. Don’t worry, Ray, they won’t want to have to drag our bodies from here to wherever they’ve set up their crime scene, and it would be difficult to change our clothes without making it obvious it was done post-mortem, so they likely won’t kill you even if you can’t take them out.”

Ray shook his head. “Great.” They didn’t move, just stared at each other, Fraser’s hands still on Ray’s shoulders. “Hey Benny?”

“Yes, Ray?”

“When we get out of here, it’s still your turn.”

Fraser couldn’t stop his smile, even if he’d wanted to. “Understood, Ray.” They heard noise above and both tilted their heads up at the same time. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The door creaked open again, and they took a simultaneous step back from each other to the darkest corners of their small room, leaving plenty of open space between them, filled with light. From above, one of their captors shouted, “Red first! Bring ladder up with you!”

Fraser and Ray exchanged nods, and when the rope ladder dropped down, Ray exhaled heavily and grabbed hold. Fraser watched his partner as long as he could, until Ray disappeared into the light, dragging the rope ladder with him, out of Fraser’s reach. His chest was tight as he heard a shout, and then what was most likely furious cursing in Japanese. The loud crack of a gunshot made him jolt, and he rushed into the light, staring wildly at the ceiling. There were scuffling noises above, a shout, and then the solid thud of a body hitting the floor. He was still standing there, staring futilely up at the light when the rope ladder was tossed back down, nearly knocking him over. 

“Come on up, Benny, the water’s fine,” he heard Ray say though the blood rushing in his ears. The wash of relief made Fraser dizzy. 

He climbed quickly out of the room and was greeted by Ray’s smiling face, though his pale and sweaty skin belied his nerves. Ray was standing triumphantly over the two men sprawled on the floor. He helped pull Fraser the rest of the way up, and they stood there, holding hands, grinning at each other. 

“Excellent work, Ray.”

“Thank you, Fraser.”

“Yes, excellent work, gentlemen.” Fraser spun around to see three more men, each armed with forty-five caliber pistols and aiming them square at his and Ray’s hearts. “But not enough to make it out alive.” Fraser recognized the leader as the Japanese ambassador’s assistant. He’d been a quiet figure shadowing the ambassador, keeping meticulous notes and not making a sound. 

“What story will you tell about the Ambassador that would cause me and Detective Vecchio to shoot him?” Fraser asked aloud, trying to weave more time out of the man’s clear impatience. 

“That, Constable, is none of your business. Although since you won’t be alive to hear the story, I can understand your need to know now.”

Fraser shifted so that he was standing almost entirely in front of Ray, even though he heard Ray’s annoyed grunt and the subtle shift as he tried to move to Fraser’s side. Fraser struggled not to roll his eyes at his friend’s persistence. “Then perhaps you will humor us?” he asked while trying to see into the gloom of the warehouse. There was a flash of movement, but he couldn’t tell for sure if it was Diefenbaker or not. 

“Not today, Constable.” He gestured with his gun. “Walk slowly towards us, we need to get you to your proper place. And you’ll have to change those clothes first, as well.” Fraser took a slow, sliding step to the side, now completely blocking Ray from the men. If that was Diefenbaker, he could get one of the men in back, which would provide enough distraction for Fraser to leap at the leader, causing his bullet to fly wide and miss. If that was Diefenbaker. 

Ray moved from behind Fraser, stepping up to his side, and Fraser sighed and recalculated his angle of attack. “You’re gonna have to change our clothes yourself. Why don’t you come do it now?”

The leader laughed in an entirely unamused way and cocked his gun. “Why don’t you do what I tell you before I shoot your Mountie friend?” 

There was a quiet “oof” somewhere behind the three men, and a cookie box sailed out of the darkness and hit one of the men in the head. Fraser pushed Ray to the floor, landing hard on his friend, just as the leader’s gun went off and sent the bullet whizzing overhead. 

“Drop your weapons!” came a decidedly female, and extraordinarily commanding, voice. 

“Is that-“ Ray started, but he was interrupted by another cookie box slamming into the face of the leader, who shouted and dropped his gun. 

Ray and Fraser glanced at each other, and then Ray scrambled across the floor to pick up the weapon while the leader clutched both hands over his eye. “Jesus, you put my eye out!” he shouted. 

Fraser pushed himself to his feet just as Ray rose to his with the gun pointed at the remaining captor. 

“Drop your weapon!” Ray barked, sounding less commanding but more desperate than the woman. “Now!”

The final man complied, and put his hands over his head. Out of the shadows, an army of older Girl Scouts materialized, led by the secretary he and Ray had talked with that morning. At quick glance there were 25 to 30 women standing there, looking steadfast and capable, holding cookie boxes in their hands, except for, Fraser saw, one in the back that appeared to have a truncheon. He wondered if truncheons were legal in Chicago, but the dark look on the face of her and her Scout sisters led him to believe now wasn’t the time to ask. Most of them wore jauntily tilted berets, but it didn’t serve to make them look any friendlier. They managed to be glaring at the now disarmed men while also giving Fraser and Ray highly skeptical looks at the same time. Fraser blinked hard, expecting them to all disappear, but they remained. “Huh,” he managed to say in greeting.

The secretary, clearly the leader, sniffed in disdain. “You’re welcome.” Diefenbaker poked his head out from behind her legs and whined.

**********

**Later that night**

“I can’t believe we were rescued by the _Girl Scouts_. I will never live this down. And I don’t even know how I’m going to explain why we were wearing each others clothes without getting into the whole ‘naked together for hours’ part of it.” Ray pulled the Riviera to a stop in front of Fraser’s apartment; his whole body slumped with weariness and dismay. 

“At least our superiors are giving us tonight to rest before we have to make our reports tomorrow.” Fraser grabbed his Stetson from the dash and played idly with the brim. “Ah, would you like to come up, Ray?”

Ray went still beside him, and when Fraser glanced over, he saw him staring out the window, looking much as he had earlier when he’d first touched Fraser’s hand. “Uh, sure. Yeah, that’d be good.” 

“Good.” They sat in that tableau for another minute before Ray shook himself and threw open the door. “Good,” Fraser repeated, following Ray’s hurried pace to his apartment. Diefenbaker followed behind, eventually heading for the fire escape, the click of his nails highlighting his departure.

Fraser had had a lot of time to think since the police had arrived at the warehouse, thanks to the Girl Scouts’ call. Fraser certainly had to admire their preparedness: they hadn’t known there would be people there, but they’d brought First Aid kits anyway, and by the time the ambulance pulled up, everyone had been thoroughly examined and patched up where necessary, and Ray and Fraser had exchanged clothes once more, Ray with only a little grumbling at the tears in his shirt. Fraser knew his own uniform would need to be cleaned of the blood and dirt. 

Then, while Ray took his fellow officers through a brief review of the scene and helped make the arrest on the five men, and while the Girl Scouts examined and discussed how to recover their good name, Fraser thought. And he pondered. And he considered. And by the time he shut the door of his apartment and turned to Ray fidgeting nervously at the dining room table, he’d had enough of thinking. It was still his turn, Ray had said, and he would give Ray the definitive answer to the question he hadn’t voiced.

Fraser whistled a little tune, and felt Ray’s gaze go straight to his lips. Fraser let them curve into a warm smile. “I apologize for not ‘making a move,’ as you say, earlier, Ray. But if I had, it would have gone much like this.” Fraser began undoing his uniform while Ray stood utterly still. “The two of us having closed another successful case, you drop me off at my apartment and I invite you up for tea or perhaps pizza, depending on the hour. You would, of course, agree.”

Ray smiled a little at that. “I would?”

“Of course.” Ray nodded, and the way his eyes sharpened made Fraser breathless. Fraser swallowed hard and focused past the sharp lust gathering in his body. “Then I would casually remove my serge, as we are friends and this level of undress is not unnatural. By then I would be watching you, though you wouldn’t know it. How rapid your breathing would be, how, if I looked at just the right angle in the light, I could see the pulse in your long neck.” Fraser could see those changes now, and others. The way Ray had shifted so that he was leaning towards Fraser. How his lips glistened where he’d wet them. The heat in his eyes. Fraser cast his gaze downward and saw that he was not the only one who was already hard. 

“And seeing these things,” he continued, setting his serge aside and moving closer to Ray, “I would decide that this would be the perfect night to let you know how I feel about you.” 

Ray had to lick his lips once, and then again, before he could speak. “And how is that?” he asked, his voice raw. 

But Fraser knew the time for words was over, and he closed the final distance between them, wrapping his hands around Ray’s arms and kissing him hard. Ray opened instantly to him, and the thrill of it sparked through Fraser’s body. It was Ray who pushed his body against Fraser’s, freeing his arms to bring his slender hands to Fraser’s face. They broke apart for a breath, and Ray whispered, “Benny,” before they were kissing again, hot mouths exploring. Ray trailed kisses across Fraser’s face, down his neck, and Fraser groaned when Ray nipped the curve of his shoulder. 

For all of his thinking, Fraser couldn’t have imagined how it felt to have Ray in his arms, and Ray pulled him even closer, rubbing up against Fraser with heat and strength. Ray was like a live wire, slender and sparkling and Fraser grabbed on, letting Ray stumble them over and on to the bed. He was whispering endearments, and his voice, the voice that Fraser looked forward to hearing each day, was full of yearning and tenderness and need, drugging Fraser. The world went soft as they removed each other’s clothes heedlessly, throwing them away so that hot skin met hot skin. The brush of Ray’s hair against Fraser’s chest made them both moan with gratitude. 

The press and slide of their bodies burned through Fraser. The world was alive with sound and heat, and as Ray’s hand came around him, Fraser cried out. There were words in his ear and sweat on his body and Ray’s hands and lips all over him. He slicked his hand on Ray’s wetness and gripped Ray, and Fraser stopped thinking entirely. He came with Ray’s name on his lips and Ray’s voice in his head, strong and sure like it always was, breaking through the years of silence.

**********

Fraser woke first. His left arm was pinned beneath Ray; his right arm held the other man’s lean body to his chest. The morning light was warm on the bed, highlighting Ray’s leg as it stuck out from under the sheets. He kissed the back of Ray’s neck and gently extricated his arm. Ray stirred a little and then fell back asleep. Diefenbaker had come back in while they slept, and he lifted his head when Fraser got out of bed. Fraser whispered “good morning” in passing. 

When Fraser returned from the bathroom, Ray was sitting up in bed, blinking and looking uncertain. Fraser ignored the unpleasant shudder in his stomach and calmly asked “Is everything all right?” 

Ray clutched the sheet and dragged it up to cover his chest and then dropped it completely. “This is just…” He gestured aimlessly. “It’s gonna take getting used to. And probably a lot of lying to my mother.”

Sitting down at the edge of the bed, Fraser rested one hand on Ray’s knee. The sunlight had made it warm to the touch. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Ray. It will take time for both of us, I’m sure.” He rubbed his hand down and back up Ray’s calf and felt him shiver. The way he was arching towards Fraser instead of away from him put Fraser at ease. Ray just needed time. “But I think it’s worth it.”

Ray looked shy and uneasy still, so Fraser leaned forward and kissed him again, feeling the tension melt out of him. Ray’s hand came up and cupped the back of Fraser’s head, holding him there with a firm grip. It was Fraser who had to break the kiss first, breathing hard. 

“Oh it’s worth it, Benny,” Ray murmured, stroking his hand down Fraser’s arm, until it came to his hand. “What’s that?”

Fraser blinked lazily and looked down at their joined hands, and saw the letter he’d found taped to his door. “It appears I had a mail delivery sometime this morning. I’d forgotten when you kissed me,” he admitted to Ray’s obvious pleasure. Fraser opened and read the letter, then made a surprised sound. “I believe this is a first.”

“What?”

“It’s a letter from the Girl Scouts. They intend to name one of their new cookies after me.”

“They’re gonna name a cookie after you? What are they going to call it, the ‘Frosting Fraser’?” 

“No, actually, the Maple Mountie. It’s a maple cookie with a hint of vanilla.”

Ray was smiling at him, and something light and mischievous was in his eyes. “I’ll have to try some of those.”

“Oh?”

“To see if the Girl Scouts managed to make them taste as sweet.”

“ _Oh_.” Fraser leaned nearer to Ray, until their faces were inches apart. He was looking forward to tasting all of Ray’s flavors himself. “You’ll need to have lots of data to make a fair comparison.”

Ray laughed and kissed him, tasting bright and warm. “Now that’s a challenge I can’t resist.” He lay back in the bed while Fraser got up to start the tea. “Hey Benny?”

“Yes Ray?” There was no answer, so he turned to find Ray staring at him, a look of such startling happiness on his features that Fraser couldn’t breathe. Some signs were easier to read than others. “Ray-“

“Never mind,” Ray said, his gruff tone not hiding his joy at all. He kept talking, though, about their adventure last night, and the likely reception of their report this morning, while Fraser filled the kettle with water, slowly, so the faucet wouldn’t overwhelm his voice.


End file.
